Subscribe here!

Pages

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Did I ever tell you about the time I got thrown in jail in Venezuela?

No?

Well, shame on me. It's an important story.

Once upon a time I went to live for two years in South America as a Mormon missionary during which time I lost almost 100lbs, talked to people in a form of pig-Latin I have since come to understand is "Spanish," and got chased by a lot, and I mean a lot of mangy, nasty rabies-infected dogs who had lost their hair.

Terrifying.

I never got bit, either. Because I'm pretty brave. And also because I learned early that if you get up in the dog's face and start shouting louder than it is barking, and then shove your scripture case thing in its face like it's gonna get hurt, they usually run away. And if they don't, you don't have to worry. You're a missionary. God will protect you. Except when He doesn't. (Originally this linked to the news story of a missionary who died a horrific death, but the board of directors (i.e. Wife and her sister) both said "NO. Too brutal." So instead you get a story about a snowball fight.) But, thankfully I was spared and was never bitten by a dog. Or killed by the several guns I saw pulled.

At the end of these two years, I was exhausted. I was ready to go home and see my family and marry the beautiful Pre-Wife who had just finished a "Spanish" speaking mission of her own in Florida.

So, the fateful day arrived. I packed my bags, said good-bye to good friends and to a people and country I loved, and was driven to the airport with the Mission President who, before this, also happened to be a Three Star General in the Airforce. I mention this because it's kind of relevant. But only kind of.

I was excited. The airport was tiny and uncomfortable but I didn't care. I could see the plane. I could feel the cool Oregon air on my skin. I could smell the scent my Mom's fake "I don't cook" cooking in my nostrils. I could already see the looks of surprise on my family's faces when they saw me looking 100lbs. lighter than when I'd left. I could already feel the warm embrace of Pre-Wife as we held each other for the first time in two years. This was HAPPENING. I was DONE. Yaaaaay!!

And about that moment in my thought process was when some fastidious airport worker asked to see our passports again. For no reason.

Sure, Airport Security Person, we said (there were eight of us leaving). Go ahead. And so the fastidious airport worker took our passports and went and talked to a bunch of other fastidious people who were feeling a bit Anti-USA, and things started getting dramatic, and I suddenly felt like I was in a Hispanic Telenovela entitled "Maldrones De Los Estados" which roughly translated is "THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS GIVE ME BACK MY PASSPORT SO I CAN FLY HOME AND MAKE OUT WITH PRE-WIFE." When he came back he was like (in Spanish) "The four of you who have stickers on your passports are free to board the plane. Those of you with stamps, come with me."

And then we got taken to isolation. Where we were questioned about nothing. For hours.

And we were read our Miranda Rights, or whatever the equivalent to that is in Venezuela, but which I'm pretty sure they copied off of Law and Order and then translated.

I'm really tired and need to go to bed so this is a perfect time for a CLIFFHANGER!!! In the next installment of this story, you'll hear about how I became an urban legend and a faith promoting rumor! Also, I ride in a paddy-wagon. And hopefully I finally stumble upon the box that has my mission pictures and you can see my impression of weighing as much as Jabba the Hut.

Nice to meet you. My name is The Weed before Venezuela

Wait, before the cliffhanger, I want to tell you one of my favorite parts. When we were sitting there being questioned, one of the airport workers came in and in the most self-righteous, disparaging tone ever wagged his finger at us and said "Y ustedes se atreven a llamarse Catolicos" which means "And you dare to call yourselves Catholics."

Not so much.

Oh, also if you haven't entered my contest to win a gift certificate to The Cheesecake Factory and a vibrator called The Little Thumper (you know--to say thanks for reading), click here.

25 comments:

Hey, I've been wanting to hear this story...The Wife and The Mother in Law mentioned it at a RS Dinner once....that was always a fear in the back of my mind that when the time came I would not be able to leave!!!

And keep those poor starving dogs out of this, will you? Have you no sense of descency? You must be the dog kicking type, Eh? I always suspected...

Josh... I am sorely disappointed. I saw the title and was like, "oh! awesome story! must share with sister and her friend" so i told them to listen up to this blog i like to read. they were skeptical,"everything you say will be funny always turns out to not be, cassanndre" they told me."it'll be different this time! it's not -me- telling the story, it's josh weed!"they reluctantly agreed to listen. so i'm reading it out loud to them, happy to be able to share some cool blog of some (supposedly) cool guy whose family i know and love.

and what did i read to them?

"I'm really tired and need to go to bed so this is a perfect time for a CLIFFHANGER!!!"

i am sorely disappointed and have, because you and your cliffhanger, lost the confidence of my sister and her friend.

@MOWO--Ha! That would actually be pretty terrifying. I will try hard not to incur your wrath in the future!

@YLIDHG--Love it. That was awesome! Did you also wave your finger at me? Because that would have been more powerful...

@Her daughter--You're right! Thanks for pointing that out. I'm actually kind of horrified and called home and had Wife change it the second you commented--I meant no disrespect to the victims of that tragic situation. (For those who didn't see it, even thought I thought I had changed it, when I published the post I accidentally did link to the story of a missionary who was tragically killed on his mission. It was really, really sad, and not really something to joke around about.)

@Catherine--I don't want to tip the scales of hatred any further! I'll post the next installment soon. Pinky swears.

@The Golden Eagle--Coming soon!

@Rob and Marseille--Um, hate to break it to you, but you're wrong. I'm actually still in Venezuela. Isn't the internet amazing? ;-)

@Kari Marie--I will not do that again!

@Cassanndre--I'm disappointed at your disappointment! Your rebuke is deserved. Cliffhangers = BAD. I'd hope they enjoyed the first section, except that makes the cliffhanger all the more glaring...

@All--Sorry for getting all lazy and tired and premature-posty on this! I've learned my lesson. From this day forward, no cliffsies. Let's shake on it and I'll spit in my hand and then we can cut our fingers and share blood as "blood brothers/sisters" and give each other diseases. That's how much I promise.

So randomly I was reading through Facebook and clicked on your blog. Those were good times (nine years later, of course) and as more time passes I kick myself harder for not snapping a quick picture when we were in the back of the paddy wagon - there was nobody back there but us, and I think I could have gotten away with it. Do you still have the passport with the stamp? If you don't, I can scan mine in and send it for your next post. Hope things are well!

Are you new here?

Oh hi.

I am Josh Weed.

I am a gay, Mormon man who is married to a woman. I have four daughters, one of whom is not featured in the photo on the header of this blog because she wasn't born yet. When she's old enough to realize this she's gonna be pissed, but as of now she can't talk yet, so I'm rolling with it.

I am a Marriage and Family Therapist who is licensed through AAMFT (the American Association of Marriage and Family Therapists), a Certified Sex Addiction Therapist trained through IITAP (the International Institute of Trauma and Addiction Professionals), and was named the Best Father Ever from TAOITMKTSTOITATST (The Association of I Told My Kids To Say That Or I'd Take Away Their Screen Time).

This website is my personal blog. I write serious posts and humorous/satirical posts. You'll probably very easily tell the difference, but if you're ever wondering, just ask. Sometimes as I write this blog, I might talk about therapy concepts. I might mention things that I've learned in my grad studies. I might share thoughts I'm having around things I'm reading, or ideas I hope will be helpful. When that happens, please know that I am offering my thoughts as a fellow human writing on his personal blog, and not as your personal therapist, or even as a professional giving professional advice. Grain of salt, is what I'm saying. Always consult (and pay for!) a professional's opinion when making therapeutic changes in your own life.

So yeah. That's how things go around here. Some days you'll get a post on a serious topic I happen to be thinking about. Other days you'll get a post about me crapping my pants on a morning run.

Subscribe via email

...The weed stood in the severed heart."What are you doing there?" I asked.It lifted its head all dripping wet(with my own thoughts?)and answered then: "I grow," it said,"but to divide your heart again."